


Clocks

by mysteriol



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Falling In Love, Final Fantasy VII Remake, Final Fantasy VII Remake Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriol/pseuds/mysteriol
Summary: Aerith knows her time’s almost up. Twenty-four hours – that’s all she has, to say her last goodbye. [ Cloud x Aerith, post-Remake ]“Dance with me, Cloud?”Just one last dance, for my sake?
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife
Comments: 45
Kudos: 144





	Clocks

**Author's Note:**

> a/N:
> 
> breathes…IT’S GONNA BE A LONG FIC GUYS – you’ve been warned. I didn’t think it appropriate to split it into multi chapters despite it’s length, because I think it breaks the flow of the sequential events. 
> 
> can be taken post-Remake. My interpretation of events leading up to the much-anticipated moment of Aerith’s possible death. I wrote this fic and then felt immediately depressed. I hope to hell and back this time Square will remedy all that was lost in the OG and bring Aerith back to us this time so she and Cloud can finally get their happy ending they truly deserve.. Guess us fans can only wait and see at this point. 
> 
> Myst-san

Aerith knows her time is nearly up.

Inside her, there are voices that warns her of her impending final hours. The Lifestream hasn’t been making that fact subtle the past few nights, nor has it given her a merciful night without dreams of waking up clutching her chest in fear of a particular silver-haired man. The eye circles around her emerald eyes make it obvious the sheer exhaustion and fatigue she’s drowning in. Lately, the only respite she has from the seemingly infinite shadows shrouding her peripheral vision is the people, the _friends_ , that stay by her side.

And…and Aerith thinks, that’s what makes tonight the hardest night of all.

She’s done what she’s warned herself not to- she’s inevitably gotten attached, to all of them.

Barret- him and his big gun. That guy is a teddy bear through and through – big on the outside, soft like marshmallow on the inside. Throughout the times they’ve spent in battles and out, he’s become the closest thing to a fatherly figure to her. And his little daughter, Marlene…Aerith treats her like her own daughter. She sees in the tiny little girl a heart stronger than an army put together… In fact, _she’s so much like me,_ Aerith thinks.

As she now quietly exits the inn in Kalm they are staying in, slipping out of the room she’s sharing with Yuffie and Tifa, she closes the door behind her quietly, but not before cherishing the sounds of the girls’ soft snores.

Yuffie… She chatters so much. She’s mischievous, she’s rebellious, she’s a fighter, that one. Aerith knows she’ll miss most of all Yuffie’s jokes, Yuffie’s innate ability to make everything seem funnier, lighter, and just…her youthful energy simply inspires and cheers on everyone’s dull energy on the hardest day.

 _Cid…try not to curse and smoke too much. It’s time I fine you a penny each time you pick up another cigarette._ Aerith finds herself actually missing his potty mouth. His morning ritual of waking up to brew his special cup of coffee, and never ever failing to offer Aerith his cup, no matter how many times she’s turned him down. He always talks about his retirement dream of sailing the Highwind and turning it into a airborne café with good music and cigarettes and the best beer in the house. Aerith wishes she will be around to witness that day. She truly wants to be there to see him succeed. 

_Vincent… it’s time you forgive yourself, isn’t it?_ Aerith has a soft spot for the vampire. Knows how much he’s still hurting, and right now, feels she can finally understand more of the pain he wears on his red cape hidden from the rest of the world. Many times, she’s been tempted to go up to the vampire and give him a hug, knowing how much Vincent really needs it when he just looks like he’s shutting down everyone again.

 _And Nanaki_ …Aerith finds herself smiling thinking of the last time he had proudly proclaim himself to be the ‘lap rat dog’ in their battles. She knows he’s far from that title he’s brandished himself – he’s an amazing fighter, and a fantastic friend. She loves how close he and Barret have become – like man and his best friend. She prays he finds the strength in him to protect and watch over the rest of them.

 _Tifa…_ Aerith’s heart constrict as she thinks of the fist-fighter. She loves the girl like her best friend. Tifa’s the closest thing to a sister she’s ever had. She’s kind, she’s tough.. she’s literally a cinnamon roll wrapped in bulletproof armor. And the flower girl knows, truly knows, how much her raven-haired friend loves the leader of their pack..

Which brings Aerith now…to think about _him._

And saying goodbye to _him –_ the notion of it… is going to be what makes tonight the most difficult hour of all.

She’s left her heart and soul with this ragtag group of people she now calls her friends, but most of all, she’s fallen in love with their leader who wears his heart on his sleeves, but is so laconic and so lacking in interpersonal aptitude and often acts like he just doesn’t give a care, that he gets mistaken often as someone brutally blunt, and is perceived a knucklehead to those who don’t know him.

A smile weaves onto Aerith’s lips, under moonshine now, as she slowly makes her way down the quiet streets of Kalm. Above, the serenity of the sky and the blanket of night constellations throw a comforting blanket around her otherwise chilly shoulders. Night zephyrs make it a cold night that even her red coat cannot protect her from.

Aerith makes her way to the lookout point of Kalm, a veranda where she’s able to lean out against the railings and simply stare out of the open-roofed porch to have the most amazing view of the night. There’s a bench right behind her, and she settles in it easily. She knows what needs to be done.

Crossing her legs, she pulls out a small pouch from her pocket. There is a small assortment of color markers and slips of paper. One each for each of the person she knows she’s going to leave behind. Barret, Marlene, Vincent, Tifa, Yuffie, Cid, Nanaki…and _him._

And as she writes and writes long notes and messages and poems and things, all she knows is that it’s getting harder and harder to see out of her vision. She’s making a big mess of the papers in front of her because her tears are rolling down incessantly and making hard splashes everywhere, soiling the ink and causing small blotches here and there. Her throat’s swelling up, and she’s holding back on her chokes as her hand feverishly continues to write. 

Sometimes, it takes just a second, for her to reach up and brush a finger across her eyes, to stop the tears, and then it starts again. Her eyes are glassy; the misty lights emanating from them joins the green hues of moonlight from above, eclipsing her thoughts.

She pauses to take a shaky breath; she needs to calm down.

It’s hard, when she pens a letter to the addressed person, and all she sees are their memories fleeting through her head like a bittersweet potion that consumes her. She doesn’t even dare to think if _they’ll_ miss her- most likely some of them will move on quickly with their lives when she’s no longer around. After all, she’s just a flower girl from the sector 5 slums, and isn’t one of the best fighter in the party (it doesn’t take a dimwitted person to figure that out, Aerith knows) – she’s sure in her absence, with her _gone,_ they’ll get used to it eventually, and then realize the deadweight to their party might have been a good riddance after all—

 _No, no, Aerith,_ she touches a palm to her heart, a dull ache blooming in her chest, _don’t you dare think of your friends this way. Don’t._

She closes her eyes.

_But I’ll miss them, so, SO, much._

She allows one last tear to slip through, rubs them away, then wills herself to stare at the Orion belt the stars make out in the sky, unblinking. Elmyra has taught her this method as an effective way to stop the tears from coming out – _“if you focus so hard looking at something and squeeze every last drop out of your eyes, they’ll eventually dry up and you’ll have no more tears left to cry.”_

She sighs, slips the letters back into her pouch carefully, neatly, noting the little details she’s added in for every one of them. She’s used a pink pen for the girls – she knows how much Yuffie loves that kind of girly stuff. She’s drawn pink materias all over Yuffie’s letter. She’s drawn a certain spikey-haired boy caricature in Tifa’s. Highwind in Cid’s. A sketch of Marlene in Barret’s. Cute pink ribbons in Marlene’s. The landscape of Cosmo Canyon in Nanaki’s. And she’s left behind a smiley face in Vincent’s letter just to remind him it’s ok to be happy sometimes.

She packs all the letters, and is well aware she’s missed out one purposefully.

She just _can’t_ bring herself to write his. She knows she’ll break. And she knows even before she starts writing, she’ll start tearing up again. So she stalls for time.

But the last slip of paper remains, glaringly on the bench before her. Empty, vacant. Waiting with its straight, neat lines for her to fit her words in.

What will she tell him?

What do you tell the man you’ve come to know and love? And then have to pretend you don’t, so that it won’t hurt so much knowing you’ve got less than 24 hours before you bid farewell?

The clock’s ticking, Aerith knows. She’s got to make her way to the Forgotten City tomorrow night. Tonight’s her last chance.

She stares down at the paper. On a whim, she stands up and stretches.

_“Remember Aerith, if you ever feel like you’re sad, stare so hard at the sky and your tears might stop coming.” Elmyra’s voice lingered in her mind._

_“What if it doesn’t work, Mom? What if, despite all of this, I still feel like my heart’s broken beyond repair? What if, despite everything, I just want to cry my eyes out?”_

_“Then do a little dance. Twirl so hard and spin so fast, you get so dizzy and don’t remember why you’re crying in the first place.”_

And so that’s how Aerith finds herself under the moonlight taking lighter steps than she ever knows. She remembers the ballet classes she used to sneak out to watch outside her neighbor’s house when her mom wasn’t home and when she wasn’t trapped in Shinra’s clutches. It was the one thing she had looked forward to as a lonely child who yearned for so much.

_Uno, due, tre…_

And she’s twirling under starshine, her summer pink dress billowing at her ankles. She’s pirouetting under the gleam of the moon watching nobody but her, she’s waltzing and spinning and leaping and she moves so swift, so fast, she becomes a whirl of pastel hues starkly contrasted against the grim heavens –

“Aerith? What are you doing?”

A voice snaps her out of her dancing reverie.

She freezes, spins around so fast, she nearly loses her balance, if not for strong arms going around to break her fall, catching her by her tiny waist.

She lands in the arms of a certain ex-SOLDIER, and finds herself staring into a pair of very startled blue-green eyes the color of the sea. Mako-infused eyes. _His._

Despite herself and her earlier melancholy, she is breaking into fits of giggles now, mirth sparkling in her eyes. “Oh, hi, Cloud. What are YOU doing here, is the question?”

He runs a hand through his hair – the same manner she’s memorized it done over a hundred times in their time together. “Couldn’t sleep..and then I saw you were gone.”

“Hmm..let me guess, you panicked, and decided to come chase after me…” She walks circles around him with a wagging finger, then can’t help herself but beam at him, “Right, worrywart bodyguard?”

Cloud resists rolling his eyes. “…Not really.” _She knows him too well._

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” She pretends to pull her nose so she looks like Pinocchio. It has the effect she wants – it threatens the corner of his lips to break into a soft smile.

“So…you’re going to tell me what you’re doing here? It’s past midnight, Aerith. Normal people are asleep.” He points up to the sky.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m trying to be like Cinderella.” She jokes lightheartedly.

He frowns, “Cinderella’s home before midnight.”

“Oh you!” She swats his shoulder playfully. “Trying to be clever.”

“I’m guessing you can’t sleep then..” He looks around, as if trying to find another topic to distract himself from the beauty of her eyes enchanting him every second as it passes. He catches sight of the blank slip of paper on the bench, and his brows knit in curiosity, “What’s this?”

Aerith finds herself lunging forward, snatching the paper and tugging it into her pocket, “It’s nothing, Cloud.”

“Oh…I see.” He looks doubtful, eyeing her cautiously. “You okay, Aerith?”

She gives the best smile she can muster, but says nothing. The weight of the blank paper in her pocket suddenly feels like a boulder, and she is made conscious all over again of the clock ticking inside her, reminding her every second of how little time she’s left – with everyone, with _him especially._

Perhaps it is the stupor of the moonlight. Perhaps it is the way he stands under the night sky looking so innocent, so _endearing._ He’s left his sword behind in a haste to look for her. And without the weapon behind his back, he looks awfully boyish…and dreadfully handsome with the stars above throwing incandescence to his features.

In a second, Aerith has impulsively taken a step towards him.

Their faces are inches apart, and Cloud looks painfully aware of their closeness. He blinks, suddenly flustered. “U-Uh…” 

She takes his hands in hers. “Say, Cloud, you are a good dancer, aren’t you?”

“Uh,” he starts to stammer, “N-No, I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, come on! The Honey Bee manor, remember that?” She winks at him, her eyes twinkling at the memory of Cloud in a dress on the stage with Andrea and all the Honey Bee ladies surrounding him as he took the stage.

Cloud furiously blushes, looking away, “Can we move on from that already?” He says in exasperation, not wanting to remember _any_ of it. 

Aerith giggles, shaking her head. She leans forward, willing him to look into her eyes again.

He does, and his breath is taken away.

He’s staring into an angel, he thinks for sure.

“Dance with me, Cloud?”

_Just one last dance, for my sake?_

“W-Wha?” He sputters, “You mean, here? Right here?”

“Yes, right here!” She looks around, hands on her hips, “No one’s watching, everyone’s in their bed by now, I promise! It’s just you and me. And I still owe you a date, remember?”

He scratches his head, confused. “Doesn’t our time at the Gold Saucer count as a date already?”

“Oooh, you!” She sighs and shifts on her feet. He’s got a point. 

But Cloud sees how much it means to her, and his eyes soften. He lets her fingers intertwine around his wholly. He doesn’t resist nor pull away.

“…Well, Aerith,” he starts, hoping he’s not going to regret any of this, “I definitely can’t do those pirouettes and twirling I saw you do earlier—”

“You were spying on me?” She teases him.

His cheeks taint pink; he scurries to look away. “Uh, well, it isn’t the most subtle sight, you know – a lady in pink dancing under the moonlight in Kalm.”

She laughs, and then hears him inhale a shaky breath as she encircles her arms around his waist. “How about a waltz, Cloud? You know those three steps thing, right?”

He tries his best not to get distracted by the thudding of his heart. He’s sure by now the flower girl can hear all of his shyness and nervousness from the betrayal of his chest, and she’s leaning so close, she’s bound to hear something. “Uh, yeah…Used to watch my mom waltz with my dad when I was really young, and she taught me a thing or two when he passed on.”

“Oh, Cloud,” sadness twinge in emerald orbs, and Aerith stops for a second, “if it reminds you of pain, let’s not do—”

“No, no,” he shakes his head, “just a fleeting memory now, that’s all.”

He stares into her eyes.

A second passes where his heart skips a beat. Two.

“We’ll waltz,” his throat is dry, “if that’s what you want.”

She smiles up at him – so bright and beautiful, he knows he’ll live up to a hundred and still have that memory seared into the back of his head. It melts his heart and soul, and his knees would surely give way if not for her palms pressed against his, guiding him into a slow waltz.

“Cloud… ” she begins to whisper.

“Yea?” _Am I doing something wrong?_

She mocks a sighs, not harshly, “You have to hold me, you know. You can’t exactly just put your hands to your sides and dance with the girl in front of you.”

He freezes like static. _What._

“Oh you doofus, here.” She’s taken his hands to place them on her hips. He nearly jumps at the contact, tremors rushing down his spine when her skin brushes his. His brains are reduced to mush. She envelopes her arms around him, then smiles up radiantly, “Much better?”

_Definitely._

But he doesn’t forsake his cool bravado act, so Cloud simply forges on, with the smallest curls hinting to spill at the corner of his lips. His eyes are soft as he looks down at his hands around her waist… and perhaps it is the night making him drunk on the alcohol of moonlight, but before he thinks through his actions, he’s already drawn her closer into his embrace, his arms going fully around her to encase her against his chest.

He hears her take in a breath. She stiffens for an instance in surprise, but it takes only a second, before she lets out a small sigh (of joy? Cloud can’t tell) and she returns the gesture, nestling her head against his chest.

Her strawberry and floral shampoo hits him like pleasuring waves as he takes in her scent. She’s so close…right next to him. Cloud closes his eyes and thinks how crazy it is, that in the hustle and bustle of this huge world outside Midgar, amidst all the battles and endless chases of a deranged silver-haired man, here they are, waltzing slowly without a care in the world for once under the starry sky.

He rests his chin on her head, a sudden ache rising in his chest. A maelstrom of emotions tugs at his heart strings, blanketing his tired soul, almost as if coaxing every exhausted bone in him to come alive again. Here, with her by his side, he suddenly feels like he can take on the whole world.

Here, Cloud feels like he’s _home._

They don’t speak for a long time, simply taking small waltz steps in sync with each other in the quiet of the night. There’s no music, and words aren’t necessary. Everything else around them suffices and speaks enough volumes. Just her hands clutching softly at his back, and his ungloved fingers caressing her small waist, their eyes closed, cherishing every second. This is enough, for now.

“Cloud?”

“Hmm?” He’s broken out of his trance. With her, he’s lulled into these eternal lightwaves of hypnotic inertia that seem to stretch forever, and he doesn’t even mind. His voice is low, as if unwilling to shatter this moment.

“Remember when you said we need to embrace the moment?” Aerith refers to the time he’d had visited her in his dreams, in her flower fields.

“Yeah.” He remembers. He pulls away slighty, their eyes meeting halfway separated only by moonlight.

She smiles, and touches a finger to his cheek, “You’ll remember this dance, right? Forever?”

_What do you think, Aerith?_

He doesn’t think even death claiming him ten times over can make him forget the way she looks like the most alluring masterpiece come to life before his eyes. If he can, he wants the ability to freeze time so they can have this second last them an eternity, and they’ll waltz to the ends of the world if infinity allows. No restraint of time at last to stop them, no clocks present to forbid them no.

“Hard not to forget.” He answers simply. He lets her finger trail down his hard jaw to his collarbone. He shivers – from the night breeze or from her touch, he doesn’t know.

It elicits another small smile from her, and her response sets off little ambers under his skin. He wants her to look at him like this for the rest of their lives. He wants to emblazon this memory into his heart, forever.

“That’s…good to know.” She smiles, but it’s hard not to miss the glassy look her eyes suddenly acquire.

He’s immediately concerned, furrowing his eyebrows, “Aerith, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing…I just…” For the first time, she’s at a loss for words. She stops taking the next step in their waltz. He nearly trips on her toes, but catches himself in time. She’s looking down at her feet, and she hears the clock again; sees the timer in her head, and her whisper trails off into a soft quaver.

He pushes her chin up with his steady fingers, eyes daring hers to look away. He doesn’t know where all this comes from, but he wants to erase her anxiety and worries away in a flash if he can help it. “I won’t know if you don’t tell me.” He’s holding her shoulders now, trying to understand.

She closes her eyes. He catches a single tear escaping before it lands on her cheek. Something in him shatters. The ache in his chest sings, louder.

“I won’t forget this, too, Cloud.” She looks at him steadily. Her smile returns, but there is that miniscule hint of shimmer beneath emerald orbs he doesn’t miss. “Us, like this. Everything. I meant it when I said I’m glad I met you, Cloud. You’ve made me happier than I’ve ever known.”

He’s rendered speechless. Surely, she must hear his heart shatter like glass when she looks so doleful under the moonlight.

“You…” He can’t seem to find the right word in his lexicon to offer her his feelings. So he doesn’t know what to say and simply settles for her name. “Aerith…”

_Stupid, Cloud. Just tell her how you feel already._

She shakes her head, tries to shake off any last shred of despondency, “Sorry, I’m bumming you out again. Here, twirl me around.” She pulls away from his arms with a purposeful dance step, to allow him the chance to draw her in like a partner in sync.

He does exactly as he is told, and watches, enchanted, as she pirouettes into his arms and stays there, fits in there, like she’s meant to be there where she belongs. In his arms.

“Promise me one thing, Cloud?”

“What?” He asks innocently. He’s still too dazed admiring the way the moonlight bounces off her eyes. She looks godsent. He knows if she asks for the stars, he’ll give her the moon. 

“That you’ll remember this dance... and also, _this_.” She tiptoes, and then bravely presses her lips to his cheeks. It leaves him completely breathless. Burns his skin where her mouth touches the spot. He’s not sure how he’s managed to stand throughout the entire ordeal she’s put him through; his knees are weak.

She’s now looking at him fully in the eyes as if gauging his response. He stands static as a log as he watches her face inch closer, her eyes eyeing his lips –

And then just as quickly as it happens, she hesitates, self-doubt clouding her eyes, and she begins to pull away—

“Aerith,” he grips her wrist. (She is real, she doesn’t phase out on him this time).

“Clo—”

He doesn’t know if he’s going to regret this. But his arms have already gone around her waist completely, quickly, and he’s ensnarled her to him, pressing her against his chest… and before he has the time to _think—_

His mouth has swoop in, to capture hers in his.

He’s gone, and kissed her.

A heartbeat passes, and the last thing he remembers as his eyes shut against hers, is feeling like his heart’s so light it’s soaring, as she kisses him back, under the moonlight bearing witness to the fruition of their little waltz under starlight.

* * *

His arms are set around her waist so tight, she can’t break free.

He’s holding her behind her back, and she knows, he’s _not going to let go._

“Cloud,” her eyes are wet with tears, her chest heavy from the silent sobs racking her breaths, “You have to let me go.”

“No,” he says it, so sternly, so fiercely, and Aerith finds herself rooted to the ground. She knows, he’s chased her all the way, to stop her from doing what needs to be done. “Aerith, you _can’t_ do this.” His voice is so full of pain, it hammer nails into her heart. She can’t even bear the thought of having to turn around and face him, all over again.

The clock ticks. Time is nearly up.

He holds her, but unlike twenty-four hours ago where they’re waltzing side by side under the glittery stars, his strength now is unwavering, determined, grim…and she senses the fear and panic coursing through his veins.

_I’m scared shitless, Aerith. Don’t. Don’t go and do this on your own._

“Cloud, don’t you understand?” She whispers, so softly, it is nearly inaudible. His arms are still around her; he knows, if he lets her slip, she’s going to disappear, forever. “I’m the only one who can do this.”

“No – we can change this, Aerith.” He insists, a stronger, more desperate edge catching on to his tone now. His grip around her doesn’t lessen. “We’ve fought fate once, we can do it again. There must be another way.”

“There is no other way.” She says, miserably. She’s seen all of them – the visions, the future, the voices in her head. There are no alternatives. She yearns even for just a single probability, the slightest chance, of one speck of tiny future where she might possibly have a happy ending – _her_ happy future with him. One which she can envision them settling down together like a family, having children, in each other’s company growing old together, just living a normal life in the country.

Away from all this.

But no…

This is reality.

And the harshness of it bites.

“Cloud.” Her tone is resigned. She’s resigned to fate. Resigned to her destiny. Resigned to losing _him._ She’s already learnt to accept come what may.

So why is he making things harder than ever?

Her last waltz with him last night is supposed to be her final goodbye. She’s taken pains to write all those letters for the entire party and left them under their pillows so when they wake and find her gone tomorrow, they’ll read them and not give chase. They _will understand._ She’ll make them understand.

So why – why does Cloud wakes up now of all times to catch her slipping away to the Forgotten City after the silver-haired man? Why, why does he always have to be such a _damn good bodyguard?_

“Cloud,” she closes her eyes – she can smell him as he embraces her from behind. His scent, a tantalizing mix of armor and metal and cider all mixed into one, is her undoing. She finds her heart breaking apart, slowly, painfully. She can barely see out of her tears now clouding her vision, “Please. This…This is why I told you,” she chokes on her words, “I told you… _not to fall in love with me_.”

He murmurs behind her back, his chin on her shoulder, “Too late for that, mam.”

Despite herself and the circumstance she finds themselves in, she has to smile through the pain, through her teary vision, “Cloud…I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Aerith,” his voice is quiet, but steeled with strength and sureness this time. “And you were wrong.”

She breathes. _Wrong about what?_

“It’s real.” He tells her. “All this…you, me,” he gestures to his heart, “it’s all real.”

Her heart breaks into two.

She closes her eyes. They don’t move – and it remains that he stands behind her, embracing her so tight, he’s sure he’s never going to let go.

“What about my pain, Aerith?” He starts to speak, barely managing. His throat is dry, his voice is hoarse. He doesn’t think he can go on without his voice choking, betraying him. “What about **me?** ”

She lifts a hand to brush a droplet of tear blotching against her cheek. She doesn’t reply. She doesn’t know how to. She knows she’s caused him pain, even before leaving.

“Don’t go.” His voice is raspy, low. “Don’t leave me.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes are tender, and bittersweet. She can’t bring herself to turn around still, so she stares at the moonlight above. It’s beginning to rain. A droplet of drizzle falls onto her face. She doesn’t know what droplets belong to her tears or the heavens above now.

“Cloud…” She closes her eyes. “I left you something in your bed. When I leave, you’ll find it, ok?”

_The letter._

“No,” his grip on her tightens, “come back with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Aerith, I am going to knock you out if you don’t,” he tightens his lips, then fastens his grip on her, “don’t make me.” He is serious and resolute. 

But so is she.

Aerith closes her eyes; knows what she must do.

“I’m sorry, Cloud.”

She whispers a chant under her breath, and the next thing she feels is the strong pair of arms around her loosening. She turns around in time to catch a suddenly groggy, drowsy-looking Cloud falling into her arms. She had casted Sleep on him with her magic, knowing he would be caught off-guard.

“Aerith, how could you…” his eyes before he closes them are full of mortification. “Don’t…go…” He collapses onto the ground, but not before she has rested him gently against the floor.

“I’m sorry, Cloud.” She takes a step back, buries her hands in her face, and before she allows herself another moment to regret, another moment to hesitate, she pivots, and dashes off into the darkness, to the Forgotten City.

This time, no looking up at the moonlight, no waltzing, no pirouetting so fast she spins and spins and spins, can take away the tears running down her cheeks as she runs and runs, further and further away from the fallen man on the ground.

* * *

He wakes up back in the inn. Vincent had found him on the ground outside where she had left him asleep.

The panic that seizes him, the fear the courses through him, is stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. His skin is ashen, his face ghostly pale.

Cloud sinks into the floor in despair. He doesn’t even need the rest to tell him that Aerith’s gone. He knows. He was there.

He had let her go.

And as they gear up their Materias and weapons and ready themselves to chase after the Cetra, _their friend,_ Cloud now sees his own clock in his head.

Tick, tick, tick, it goes.

If he doesn’t find her in time, he knows, he has nothing else to live for.

He will be a shell of himself. He will be hollow.

As they load up everything onto the Highwind and ready themselves for a long hard battle ahead, the mood is somber and grim. Nobody speaks a word. Nobody thinks they can manage it without breaking down from the lump in their throats. In their hands, they’ve got the letters _she wrote_ ; they’ve used the time on the Highwind to read.

There’s a lot of tears.

From the girls, especially. Yuffie breaks down into wrecking sobs as she looks at the pink font on her letters. She makes a promise to never steal so many materias again as long as Aerith returns and takes her to the Gold Saucer one more time. Barret’s an anxious wreck and Vincent has to stop him from drilling the Highwind with holes with his gun. Barret keeps saying how Aerith has to be the one to pass Marlene her own letter. “Aint gonna do it for her!! She be alive to do it herself, dammit!!!”

And Vincent’s so quiet. Thinking about Lucrecia. And another loss of a friend. He hides somewhere and disappears. He doesn’t want to go through all of this. Again. Cid’s flying the Highwind exceptionally high and fast today. He’s stopped smoking a cigarette this morning, too. He knows he’s going to try his darndest best to keep his promise to the flower girl about his health. Nanaki’s sniffing at his paws, but everyone knows he does that when he’s in deep sorrowful pain.

And then there’s Tifa, who’s comforting Yuffie, but her eyes are swollen from her own tears. She’s inconsolable, too. She can’t believe the flower girl’s asked her to watch over Cloud in her place. No, Aerith’s got to be the one to do it. _You know he loves only you, Aerith. You can’t destroy him like that by leaving. You can’t destroy all of us._

And Cloud-

Cloud has it the worst, as he stares blankly at the letter he now reads, and then tucks it into his pocket.

He sinks his head into his hands, and doesn’t remember…

Doesn’t remember another time when he’s so fucking scared and anguished because he doesn’t think he can comprehend anything else if he’s going to end up losing the love of his life. He knows his heart will be surely ripped away forever from his body.

“Aerith….” he promises to no one in particular, to himself, to her, to the yellow lily in between his fingers the flower girl had picked for him the other night (it symbolizes Reunion, she’s told him – he prays now it’s true).

_“This time, I won’t let you go.”_

* * *

_Dear Cloud,_

_What can I say?_

_I hope, like me, you won’t ever forget our last little waltz._

_You look your most dashing under the moonlight. I want to remember you this way._

_I think when I told you not to fall in love with me, Cloud, I was scared and thought pushing you away would spare you hurt when I leave eventually…_

_But you see, Cloud, I haven’t been completely honest that night of what I haven’t told you._

_The truth is,_

_I love you._

_And unmistakably, utterly, all of it, is real – for you._

_If fate intertwines us together again, I hope, I fall in love with you again,_

_In my next life, and in the next, and the next one,_

_To infinity, with you._

**FIN**

* * *

_ Melting Clocks  _

With you, it is different

I know there are endless adventures

That we can go on together;

I know there are too many things

That we have to say to one another;

And I wished we had more time than this,

\- Timothy Joshua

A ripping, ticking chime,

Time swiftly tearing two apart

Take my hand, reset the clock

Together the sky we’ll climb

– J.R.

* * *

**A/N:**

There.. now I go to bed very much intensely depressed, more so than I first started writing this fic. What have I done to myself? (looks in the mirror in dismay)

If you’re still reading this – thank you for sticking around after trudging through the entire fic – you made it! I’m just going to end the fic here because the thought of handling a possibly dead or not dead Aerith – I just cannot.

I second Cloud in that I will be forever hollow if Square rips her away from us again this time. Just when we’re so close, so damn close, to having a second chance to save her. I can’t live through that again seeing all in HD. You and I both know we can’t lol.

Comment/review – you know you want to make my day ; )

Myst-san


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